


Masked: Tuesday, October 31st

by PlotQueen



Series: Home for the Holidays [2]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2019-01-15 14:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12322932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlotQueen/pseuds/PlotQueen
Summary: In the wake of Friday the Thirteenth, Halloween rolls around with unexpected tricks that have Danny perilously close to dangerous ground.





	Masked: Tuesday, October 31st

Finally, the day he’d been waiting a whole year for: Halloween.

Danny Fenton grinned as the buzzing of his alarm clock cut off and he shoved his blanket off of him. Today was a day for fun, tricks, and some very sweet treats if the bag of cherries Sam had so casually dropped off the night before meant anything. That was if he survived the day to get to the night. Which was a distinctly slim possibility, he acknowledged with a lazy grin as he recalled what had happened promptly after midnight the year before as Halloween had bled into the first day of November.

 It was tradition, something they’d been doing for years and had only skipped twice since second grade. The Passing of the Hat, something worthy of the capital letters. It was why Danny hadn’t chosen his own Halloween costume, or Sam and Tucker either. No, instead they wrote down a costume or a theme and dropped it into the hat and took turns pulling them out.

Danny grinned as he stared at the simple and neat print on a slip of paper taped to his mirror. One word, _Goth_. It had been Sam’s idea, he knew as much from the handwriting as from the theme. He could only hope that Tucker had gotten his slip of paper. Sam would kill him if she had to dress up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.

She’d do even worse things if she knew that he’d trained Cujo to trail after whoever was prancing around in sparkly red shoes.

But at any rate, Danny had taken the costume to heart, like he did every year (save the two they hadn’t done it—in seventh grade because two out of three had had the chicken pox, and freshman year because between the first year of high school and brand new ghost powers… it was just a bad idea.) He’d spent the better part of his Christmas and birthday cash compiling a suitably gothic outfit that wasn’t too over the top. He had a plain black shirt that hugged the lean frame he always hid underneath baggy shirts. That would at least earn him some points with Sam, who had made a point of mentioning on the first of their two (so far) dates how much she liked his improved physique.

The black pants were simple cargo pants, a little loose and belted about his hips with a black leather belt. He’d managed to figure out a decently abstract way to sling some chains between various belt loops and pockets, though the clinking reminded him of something out of _A Christmas Carol_. But most of his cash had gone on the black leather boots that he was carefully lacing on. It had taken months to get them properly broken in without anyone actually seeing them. They’d set him back more than a hundred bucks, but they were pretty cool even outside of the goth image. He figured he could get a lot of wear out of them before they fell apart.

The rest was in the accessories: a plain black band around his left wrist that conveniently covered up a questionable scar he was now sporting thanks to one of his beginner ghosts. He slipped a chunky ring on the thumb of his right hand, grimacing at how strange it felt but shrugging it off because he knew that it was a good touch. In fact, he’d only thought about it a month prior when he’d seen one of the clerks at Sam’s favorite bookstore, Skulk and Lurk, sporting a ring very similar, though Danny’s chain link ring was much smaller.

If he’d tried to wear the other one his finger might have fallen off before he’d managed to walk to his front door.

The eyeliner was an annoyance, Danny decided as he carefully traced around his eyes with the pencil. He’d tried it a few times before, neither time making a total mess. It certainly wasn’t his favorite way to spend four minutes. _What is it about black eyeliner and the Goth thing?_ he thought in irritation.

His reflection only shrugged as he carefully looked over the smudged black outline around his eyes. It looked alright. Hopefully the waterproof thing wasn’t a lie. The last thing he needed was to look like a raccoon on top of looking like he was practicing with his mom’s makeup every day. He chuckled as he glanced at his hands. The black nail polish that he’d so carefully painted on last night was really going to butcher that thought.

But the _piece de resistance_ was the slim silver hoop he dug out of a small black box on his dresser.

Carefully Danny unhooked and removed the flesh-toned plastic stud from the lobe of his left ear and slid the silver hoop in, arching a brow in satisfaction as it clicked closed. He stood back to survey his work. It was done. He looked great, totally Goth. He laughed and then schooled his face into a casual look of disdain. Better. Much better.

Now, if he could only survive making it to the door without his mother wanting to know when he’d gotten his ear pierced. She’d kill him if she knew he’d done it months ago.

 

It was by mutual agreement that on Halloween they didn’t meet at their normal place. No, on Halloween they hooked up at school, in the courtyard where dozens of students where lounging and standing around already dressed up in costumes of their own. _Something of a tradition,_ Danny thought with a grin as he glanced around to see if either of his best friends were there yet.

They weren’t, but he could easily see a lot of kids that he did know, and every last one of them in costume. Most schools would have had a fit for their entire student body coming to school in costume, some frighteningly elaborate. But not Casper High. Hell, with a name like that it was to be expected. And maybe that was why the fact that the school was such a huge target for ghosts was so easily accepted.

Danny chuckled low in his throat. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew the ghost boy was a student?” he asked himself quietly as he settled himself beneath a tree and waited, arms crossed across his chest and an amused smirk plastered across his face.

Some of the kids had really gone all out this year, he saw. There was Kwan, wearing a great Frankenstein costume, complete with shiny bolts glued to his neck. Star was wearing a gypsy outfit that should have earned her endless detentions for how much skin it showed. But she was A-List, and that wasn’t going to happen. Valerie was hanging out with a bunch of kids he didn’t know, but knew of. Danny had to suppress the quick burst of laughter that wanted to escape. Valerie had actually dressed as Ember.

Oh, that was a riot.

Here and there were some really original costumes. There was a boy who was dressed up like a knight, but the armor actually seemed to be real. Another boy who had a really elaborate dragon mask on that towered three feet above the crowd. Danny could see the holes that had been carefully concealed in the neck for line of vision, but it was a really cool mask. That kid had a really dark red cloak draped over himself to give the impression of a dragon walking around. Very cool.

Some of the costumes… not so elaborate. Actually, only two. Dash and Paulina. Dash was wearing jeans and a white tee-shirt with a Homer Simpson mask, and Paulina wearing a black shirt with a Halloween theme across it. Not original, not elaborate. Accurate reflections of the Friday the Thirteenth upheaval.

The whole Technus thing had really done a number on those two, though for different reasons, and despite knowing that it wasn’t his fault, Danny couldn’t help but to feel responsible. Dash had taken it badly, which had shown Danny a different side of him. It didn’t make him like the jock better, but it did make him feel bad for him.

He’d actually cared about Paulina. A lot. Since he’d found out that she hadn’t been as into him his grades had dropped (if that was even possible considering what his GPA had been before) and he’d actually tried to quit the football team. That idea had lasted for a whole week, but Coach Tetslaff had wisely used reverse psychology on him. Unfortunately, it had been at Danny’s expense. Just telling Dash that she was trying to get Danny Fenton on any (much less three) of the school’s athletic teams made the blond boy’s eye start ticking with stress.

Paulina had taken badly as well, just not for the same reasons. Her popularity wasn’t what it had been, and she’d actually spent two days eating by herself when no one wanted to speak to her. The only upside had been that Paulina didn’t seem to blame Danny like Dash did. No, instead, anytime Danny was around, she’d get this really strange look on her face and watch him like a hawk.

Of course, Danny knew that everyone had been watching him like a hawk since Friday the Thirteenth. It was to be expected, he’d known that it would happen, there just wasn’t anything he could do about it. It was better than the alternatives. Of course, at this rate, he might have taken Skulker beating the hell out of him if only to retain the sense of normalcy that had been his until that day two and a half weeks ago.

Danny’s thoughts were interrupted by the site of brown pigtails and glittering red shoes on the other side of the courtyard. The blue gingham dress worked perfectly, and the basket was a great touch. So was the tiny green, glowing dog trailing behind the sparkly shoes, eyes glue to them like one of Pavlov’s dogs with their bell. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t right about it was the fact that it wasn’t Sam in the Dorothy outfit.

No. It was Tucker.

He laughed out loud, and saw Tucker’s green eyes swivel toward him and widen a little as he took in the new look, and then head right for him, navigating in the heels with far too much ease. “It’s a good look for you, Tuck. Where’d you learn to walk in heels?”

Tucker scowled. “Don’t even start. I’ve been practicing for months.” He punched Danny in the shoulder. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Danny nodded, pleased. “Yes. Yes, it was. And mine,” he pointed at himself with one black polished finger, “was Sam’s. I’d know her handwriting anywhere. So she got yours. What was it?”

“Cleopatra,” Tucker said smugly and then jumped as someone tapped him on the shoulder unexpectedly.

“Has anyone told Valerie that Ember was a ghost and not an actual rock star?” Sam asked as she peered out from underneath the hood of a very long, very black cloak. Then she stopped flat as she saw Danny, lounging against the tree in all of his temporary gothic glory.

“See something you like?” he teased as Sam’s cheeks turned pink. She didn’t say anything as Danny reached a hand out and grabbed her cloak, pulling her forward until she was close enough for him to press a gentle kiss to her lips while Tucker rolled his eyes.

“Your ear is pierced,” she said softly as she reached a hand up to touch the silver hoop. Then her lavender eyes narrowed. “And it’s been pierced long enough to heal.”

Tucker leaned forward to inspect it himself. “How the hell did you pull that off? Your healing is good, but not _that_ good.”

Danny smiled and dug a hand into his pocket, pulling out the flesh toned stud. “This would be how. I had it pierced back in May.”

“Your mom is going to kill you,” Tucker said. “And Sam is going to kill her,” he added as one of the overly perky cheerleaders bounced up and draped herself against Danny, immediately shoving Sam out of the way with a swish of her pointed witch hat.

“Oh my god, Danny, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she squealed, and Danny winced.

“Yeah, uh, Karen? Carrie?” He frowned. “What _is_ your name?”

“Carlie,” she said with a cheery laugh and vapid smile. “But you just have to come to the party tonight. It won’t be the same without you!”

“Right, uh, Carlie. Yeah,” Danny started as he extracted himself from her clutches and wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders as she smiled smugly at the confused cheerleader. “Sorry, I have other plans.”

“Oh, silly. You can bring your girlfriend.” She laughed loudly. “Bring both of them!” With a final flounce she was gone and Tucker was scowling at Sam and Danny both.

“I am _not_ your girlfriend.”

Sam snorted. “I’m not his girlfriend, either,” she said, “but do you see me complaining?”

Tucker raised an eyebrow at her, and then at the slightly blank look on Danny’s face that followed Sam’s words. “Sam, maybe I’m not the one you should be asking.”

Sam glanced back at Danny and flicked her fingers at Tucker, who just shrugged and tugged out his PDA and headed in the general direction of class. Sam, however, had no thoughts of class at all, being more concerned for the way Danny was trying to hide whatever hurt she’d caused with her sarcasm.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quietly. He only shrugged and smiled, and she tried again. “Danny—”

He cut her off. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a wave of his hand, and she caught a glimpse of black nail polish and grabbed the hand, flipping it palm down and staring.

“You really went all out,” she said and looked up. “Even with the eyeliner. I am officially impressed.”

He smiled at her, crooked and happy. “I always said that a job worth doing was worth doing right.”

“Does that mean you did your homework?” she asked innocently as he looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they trailed in Tucker’s direction, carefully evading the puddles of green dog saliva that Cujo had left as he trailed after the sparkly red shoes.

“Not in the least,” he said blithely. “So are we going to this party?” he asked as they caught up with Tucker and Cujo.

“Why not?” Tucker said as his PDA beeped softly. “It’s not like we have anything better to do.”

Sam frowned. “They’ve never invited us to a party before.” The thought stopped abruptly because all three knew exactly where it was going.

Despite years of attempting to gain popularity, Danny had finally managed to gain some. A little, and way better than what Poindexter had had when he’s stolen Danny’s body back in freshman year. It was ripples, Sam thought. Ripples from the stone that was Friday the Thirteenth tossed into the pond of Casper High’s social status. Between Danny’s ‘epic’ fight with Skulker in the gym (someone had even auctioned off the broken baseball bat on E-Bay) and the dethroning of Paulina and Dash, Danny had found a new place that was outside of his loser niche.

Suddenly there were whispers about him in the halls, only not concerning his parents and their inventions, or his freaky friends. No, the new rumors were about his eyes, and his hair, and his tall, lean build. With the way the school had held its breath the Monday following Friday the Thirteenth, Sam had thought it was going to collectively pass out. But she had realized by that Wednesday that they were just watching.

Watching, and actually paying attention.

No one had missed the practiced way Danny had pounded on Skulker, and the way he had sent the Box Ghost (who _still_ hadn’t been seen outside of the Ghost Zone) running was already a school legend. But more than that it was a rumor that Dash had started that day, that had made its way around the school and town before the weekend following it all had been over.

It had caused some really awkward questions at school too.

She remembered the look on Danny’s face the week before when he’d been hauled unceremoniously out of class by Mr. Lancer, Principal Ishiyama, the school nurse and the psychologist that had been hired after the Spectra incident. He’d looked terrified, but then, he had reason. It was one of the reasons he kept his scars so carefully hidden; the last thing he needed was someone poking around thinking that his parents were abusing him or that he was doing it to himself.

That was almost as bad as the truth, possibly worse since if the accusations showed any merit there was a decent chance that, seventeen or no, Danny would be removed from his family until he turned eighteen. No, he didn’t need that, and neither did they.

Which was why Sam and Tucker had followed without so much as a by your leave from the teacher and burst into the nurse’s office, a miracle for Tucker, and told them all point blank to leave Danny alone. The detention had been worth it since they’d managed to forestall the questions that were about to be hurled with their loud assertations that Danny was a ghost hunter, just like his parents.

Of course, the scars that riddled Danny’s body as he had stood there shirtless and head down, blue eyes closed so he didn’t have to see the pity and horror the teachers displayed as they looked, weren’t exactly run of the mill. Certainly, Jack and Maddie had nothing like them. Jack never would because he preferred to use cannons on his prey, a fact that Danny could personally attest to, and Maddie was far too skilled. Between her martial arts prowess and the fact that she could shoot a flea from a dog’s butt at a hundred paces… No, not likely that either of them would ever earn scars like what Danny wore.

Of course, neither of them had seen as much battle as Danny had, either.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Danny rubbed the back of his neck and said, “We don’t have to if you guys don’t want to. It doesn’t make a difference to me. Really.”

Tucker kind of shrugged. “Ironic, isn’t it? The popularity we’ve been chasing since freshman year, and we’re undecided about attending an A-List party.”

Even Sam laughed. “I think we should go. It might be fun, and,” she paused to stick her tongue out at Danny’s surprised expression. “Shut up, you. I said might. Besides, it could provide endless blackmail if we’re careful.”

Danny chuckled. “There’s the Sam I know and love.”

The words were not lost on any of the trio, and Danny and Sam both flushed bright red as Tucker’s jaw dropped and he whipped his PDA up to snap several pictures in rapid succession. Tucker’s laughter and Cujo’s high pitched yelps as his tail wagged until he fell over echoed across the courtyard behind them and down the hall they were just stepping in to.

“I always knew you two were lovebirds,” Tucker said, a pleased smile stretched across his face.

Danny glanced at Sam, who was still red, and then glared evilly at Tucker. “But Tucker, I love you, too,” he said loud enough that heads swiveled to stare at the trio, but mostly focusing on the unexpected sight of Tucker Foley in drag trailed by a ghost dog, and Danny Fenton, as goth as Sam Manson ever was.

Tucker raised his hands and waved them at Danny, trying to ward off the other teen as he stepped closer, towering over the slightly shorter boy as a smile curved his lips. Without a second thought, Tucker turned tail and ran, heels clicking against the floor as he did, and barks punctuating every other step. Danny could only collapse against a locker, wheezing in laughter as Sam covered her mouth, trying to hold back the snickers of wicked delight.

“And here I thought our relationship had so much potential,” Danny said to Sam as Tucker turned a corner at the far end of the hall and disappeared from sight, his tongue firmly in cheek.

 

“Come on, Sam, lose the cape,” Tucker pleaded as they headed for the Nasty Burger straight from school.

The day had been interesting to say the least. Between Danny and Tucker’s undying curiosity about what, exactly, Sam was wearing beneath the cape she refused to take off (the only hint of her costume were matching gold wrist cuffs clasped around her slim forearms), and the reactions to the trio’s costumes, it had been insane. The attention that Danny had been garnering since the thirteenth bled over into something he hadn’t expected, especially not the way he was nearly being stalked by several of the girls from gym who’d watched him go to town on Skulker.

He supposed he should only be grateful they hadn’t had their cells on them, or he’d have to put up with pictures and, in a few cases, video clips.

“Not doing it, Tucker. You can attract all the attention you want, I refuse to be party to it,” Sam said flippantly as she laughed at the small green blob following Tucker’s sparkly red heels as they clicked along the sidewalk.

“Can I at least see it?” Danny asked as he glanced furtively over his shoulder at the girls who were still following him.

Sam glanced at him, behind him and then shook her head. “Not even you, Danny, can convince me to lose the cape.”

“Well why’d you bother wearing a costume you refuse to show off?” Tucker asked irritably as Cujo raced ahead of him and he stumbled over the little specter.

Sam shrugged. “I thought it looked great in the package. I just didn’t realize that it would show so much skin.”

“Skin?” Danny’s attention was instantly diverted from his groupies to the slim girl in black next to him. “You’re wearing something that shows skin?”

She flushed brightly and Tucker snorted as he set his PDA to record the exchange.

“I said not even for you, Danny.” Sam’s voice was flat as she said it, and Danny reached an arm out to snake around her waist, pulling her against him. She shivered against him, wondering at the sudden cold that came off of him before she looked up and realized his eyes were vividly green. “Danny,” she started, but was cut off by his mouth firmly on top of hers.

“Please, Sammy,” he said softly against her mouth before kissing her again, only stopping when he realized that not only did they have an audience, but his hands had worked their way under the cloak she was wearing and Sam was pressed flush against him on the middle of the sidewalk.

“Next time, maybe you two should get a room,” Tucker said as he blinked at the unexpected sight. It was one thing to know that they were dating, sort of. Another to have it shoved in his face the fact that his best friends were quite comfortable with making out. Kind of creepy, especially considering that none of them seemed to exactly be themselves today, all costumed out and all.

Danny looked down at Sam for a moment before leaning down to press one last, gentle kiss to her lips and then adjusting her cloak so that it was falling smoothly along her shoulders once again. He looked around and flushed at Tucker’s pointed stare and the PDA in his hands, and then the other way to realize that his fan club had apparently taken off. He chuckled.

“If that was all I had to do to get them to leave me alone, I’d’ve done that ages ago,” he said and then ducked as Sam swatted him in the head with a fierce glare. “I didn’t mean it like that, Sam!” He let his voice drop lower and turned his back on Tucker. “I only meant that I wouldn’t have waited until school was out to do that.”

He heard footsteps behind him and smiled smugly as he saw Tucker walking off with Cujo in tow. He turned blue eyes back on Sam. “Come here,” he ordered, and pulled her back over to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and starting them after Tucker, albeit at a much slower pace. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day. And I’ve wanted to get my hands on you all day, too.”

“You’re a perv,” she said, but was smiling as she leaned against him contentedly. She looked up startled when she felt Danny tense next to her, and then pull away. Ahead of her, of them, at the doors of the Nasty Burger, was Tucker. A very concerned Tucker with a very excited Cujo yapping about his red heels, and a very, _very_ angry Valerie Gray with an ectogun pointed at the little ghostly dog.

For a moment Sam wondered if Danny had pulled away because of Valerie, because he might have feelings for her, even years after the doomed relationship. But the way he was darting forward, his boots pounding on the pavement and then skidding against it as Danny hurriedly put himself between Valerie and the dog, had her thinking that jealousy was a terrible occupation for her mind.

“Why’s he been following you everywhere, Foley?” Valerie shot at Tucker where he was hiding behind Danny, scooping up the wiggling green pup to protect it.

“Maybe he likes my shoes!” Tucker said back, and Danny bit back the laugh that threatened to spill out. That was exactly why the dog was following Tucker, but far be it from him to enlighten the boy.

“Val, he’s not hurting anyone. He’s just being a dog,” Danny said, trying to placate her and sighing when she narrowed her eyes at him, though she did lower the ectogun so it wasn’t pointed at him.

“That dog destroyed my dad’s lab three years ago, and where he is, the Ghost Boy isn’t far behind,” she said viciously.

“He’s not my dog!” Danny said vehemently before alternately going pale and the red before he spun on his heel and scooped Cujo from Tucker’s arms and took off down the streets at a fast walk to leave Sam and tucker watching a very confused Valerie.

She frowned. “I never said it was his dog,” Valerie muttered before tucking the ectogun back into her backpack and turning, swinging the door to the Nasty Burger open and heading in.

Sam and Tucker glanced at each other and Tucker shrugged. “Don’t look at me, I just wear the heels.”

Sam chuckled and then let her eyes follow the shadow that was Valerie inside. “Come on, Tuck. I want to enlighten Valerie about Ember’s origins.” She glanced back to the corner that Danny had turned down seconds before. “Danny will catch up with us in a bit, I’m sure.”

“Sorry I ditched you guys earlier,” Danny tried to say over the music but only ended up shouting it as he ran a hand through his hair in an effort to calm down the irritation with the party.

Sam shrugged and Tucker was too wrapped up in his game to really pay attention to anything else. Especially when Sam leaned in close to Danny and pulled his face down to hers so that she could slide her lips along his cheek to his ear and ask, “What did you do with Cujo?”

Danny grinned at her. “Took him home. He’s been living as Ember’s dog since the Friday the Thirteenth thing. She likes him.”

Sam laughed and clapped her hands together. “That’s great, Danny. He needed a home.”

Danny scowled. “Yeah. A home beyond annoying the hell out of me.”

“What’d he do this time?” Sam asked with one dark eyebrow arched. She thought she heard him mutter something about homework, but decided she didn’t really want to know. “This sucks, can we go?”

Danny laughed loudly enough that several people turned to look in their direction. It was a mixture of surprise that the loser trio of Casper High was at an A-List party, but mostly acceptance that made Sam’s stomach nearly turn as she realized that somehow, they’d been accepted into the popularity contest as something other than nerds and pseudo-geeks.

“Let’s go dance, Sam,” he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her out on the floor. Sam shook her head trying to get out of it but it was no use, he had her firmly by the waist and was trying to coax some semblance of rhythm out of her.

It was funny in its own way. Danny was normally the klutziest person she knew, even when they weren’t around other people he tended to have some rather brilliant moments. But lately, and especially since the Friday the Thirteenth incident, he’d seemed to change overnight. The klutz had almost all but disappeared, and in his place was a Danny who was so much more sure of himself, and infinitely clever in the way he moved. It was the result of so many ghost battles, she knew it had to be.

But it was so different. And she liked it. She liked this almost confident Danny just as much as her shy sweet Danny, and sometimes she wondered if he didn’t use his ghost half to give his human half a moral boost when he needed it.

But times like this, when he had her swaying with him to some deep, primal beat, she had to wonder how much his ghost half factored into it. The air between them was heated, nothing remotely icy about it, and his eyes were hot and blue as he looked down to her, his hands dancing at her waist, fingers caressing bare skin beneath her dark cape as he moved her surely between the other people dancing.

There was surely something wrong for him to be moving against her this way in public, much less to the poppy music that the A-List people seemed to like hearing. But it felt so… good. Right. Perfect, and Sam gave herself over to it, sliding her arms up his and around his neck. She could feel his breath hot on her neck, the tickle of his lips as he pressed a hesitant kiss to the skin, and a smile curved her lips. _There’s my shy Danny. He’s still there._

His mouth was sliding along her jaw now, and she closed her eyes as his lips found her cheek, the corner of her mouth, then her lips to be ripped away as Sam was tugged backwards by her cloak as it was yanked back from her, the clasp snapping open so that the dark material was clutched in the hands—claws—of a dragon headed boy. Real claws, Sam realized with a frightened scream as Danny tugged her back to him, and then behind him to take up a defensive stance in front of her.

“Oh no,” Sam whispered as she glanced around, eyes wide, and tugged frantically on Danny’s arm to make him look around.

The dance floor was filled with creatures, every last one of them masked and menacing their unmasked counterparts, regular students who were suddenly screaming and shrieking over the music as they began to run. “Sam,” Danny whispered, and she could hear the panic in his voice as he looked around. She could see the surprise, shock, even fear on his face as he took in the pandemonium. But it was quickly replaced by the stubborn, never say die look that he wore every time he went up against a ghost.

He kicked out with one leg, knocking the dragon-boy back and onto the ground as he swirled around and pulled Sam tight against him, bent over her and gasping when something she hadn’t seen hit him from behind. There was a short burst of green around her and Sam closed her eyes against the brightness as cold washed over her. When she looked around again she could see that the floor around them had been cleared in a radius of several feet as Danny straightened, eyes burning into hers, bright with worry.

Then there was a yell from the edge of the dance floor and Sam’s head whipped around to see Tucker being menaced by—“What the hell?” she heard Danny say as they realized that Tucker was in danger from Homer Simpson. “That’s Dash. I know that’s Dash and that—”

He was cut off as he sidestepped a clawed hand swiping at him. Sam was tugged again, this time up into his arms as he ducked beneath another swipe with a muffled curse, and she cried out as the claws did catch her as they slid across Danny’s arm and then her leg.

“Christ, Sam, I’m sorry,” he muttered frantically as he began dodging and weaving his way to the sidelines, one hand shooting out from beneath her leaving Sam feeling precariously off balance, even though he still held her securely, as he backhanded another masked creature from their path before it could attack them.

She felt the beginning numbness of him going intangible and her fingers dug desperately into the fabric of his black shirt. “Danny, don’t,” she whispered urgently, eyes darting around into the crowd. “There are still normal people, you _can’t_.”

The tingle left as Danny let the power go resignedly with a sigh and ducked past another creature, the swerved abruptly and Sam just knew he had to have used some of his powers to keep from falling that time. Another duck, low enough that she wondered how he was keeping his feet and then he was there with Tucker, where the boy was fending off Dash as Homer with one of his sequined red heels, waving it menacingly and managing to dig the heel into Dash a few times while he was at it.

“Sorry,” Danny said hurriedly with an apologetic grimace at her as he dropped her down and pushed her beneath a table where she watched as Danny reached _into_ Dash, one hand intangible up to his elbow as he went to pull him away from Tucker, who was stumbling back precariously on the remaining heel he’d been wearing.

And as he did his hand slid back out of Dash, and the Homer mask came with it, attached to an eerily spectral Homer Simpson that dangled in the air for a moment from Danny’s hand before dissipating and then drifting to nothingness, the mask falling to the floor in a steaming pile of melting rubber. Danny stepped back suddenly, startled, and glanced between Sam and Tucker and then Dash, who had dropped to his knees moaning and holding his head before finally toppling over to his side, unconscious.

“Did you guys see that?” Danny shouted over the din of shrieks and general chaos that the masked monsters were creating.

Sam crawled out from under the table as Tucker nodded his head at Danny, and then his jaw dropped. “ _That’s_ your Halloween costume?” he gasped, no matter that Danny had to yank him away from another mask inspired creature, this time something with eyeballs hanging out of its mouth and half eaten worms dangling from its eye sockets.

Sam blushed vividly as Danny’s eyes swept over to her and stopped dead still as she struggled with the table cloth on the table, yanking it off and not caring if glasses of soda and bowls of chips flew everywhere. Anything was better than them staring at the costume she’d bought. She didn’t even care that there was another creature trying to attack from behind as she wrapped the table cloth around herself, only noticing when the vivid blast of ectoenergy shot past her head to nail the kid in the newest monster directly in the chest.

She shrieked as he-it-whatever stumbled into her and then dropped to the ground, the kid rolling to the side and away from the mask, which was melting just like Dash’s mask had done, and with it another specter of the monster he’d been, complete with tentacles.

“Sam,” she heard, and stepped back to the reassuring voice, feeling safer as Danny’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her back with him and Tucker. Without warning Danny flipped the table she’d ripped the cloth from and ducked her behind it, his eyes burning green into hers. Then he smirked. “If I’d known _that_ was what you were wearing underneath that cape, I would’ve gotten it off of you hours ago.”

She glared and smacked him in the shoulder hard as she tied the table cloth about her more securely. “I told you that it looked better in the package.”

Without warning silvery light washed over her and Tucker, and Danny was grabbing them both and turning them invisible and then intangible as he lifted them from the floor and through the ceiling to settle on the roof. “Safe,” he said with a sigh, and then he let go of Tucker and grinned at Sam, looking feral and evil in the dark as his ectopower danced along his skin. “And I think it looks great on you.”

She groaned.

A mistake, it was definitely a mistake, but it had looked _so_ good in the package. Gossamer and white, something she would never have worn if it hadn’t been for Tucker’s precise instruction of ‘Cleopatra,’ and Sam could have killed him except it had been her own fault for not trying it on sooner than the night before Halloween. Yards of the material wrapped around her slim hips to form a fitted skirt that stopped just above her knees in something that reminded her of a sari, and the top was another bit of the material wound about her torso and leaving much more to the imagination than she was usually comfortable with.

The saving grace of that was the fitted gold torque necklace that dipped down between the obvious swell of her breasts, a green glass gem nestled there with a dozen fine golden chains dripping down from beneath it, to flow their way across her stomach and emphasize the smooth flatness of it, then connect to a thicker band of the chains braided about her hips. It created a veritable rainbow of gold across her pale skin as they attached themselves to smaller green glass gems at intervals, leaving them to dance on her skin and draw the eye to the dip of the skirt.

The matching wrist cuffs and she’d kept her boots, but even then, she hadn’t been able to do more than wear them with a pair of thigh highs. She’d refused to even consider wearing actual pantyhose, they’d poked over the top of the skirt, so low did it fall, that she had to bow to the inevitable and wear the thigh highs, hating every time she moved and felt the soft tickle of the lace tops where they rose to the tops of her thighs.

It made her think too much on how different it would feel to have Danny touch her there, a dangerous thought that she knew better than to think, but couldn’t help but think anyway.

“Can we not discuss my costume?” Sam asked in annoyance as she wrapped arms around her waist, hating the way she felt. Insecure, exposed. Not the way she’d wanted to feel. Confident, sexy, beautiful.

Tucker just snorted. “I only said Cleopatra, Sam. You took it to a whole new level.” HE shot a speculating glance at Danny and added, “But I wonder why that was.”

Then he yelped as her boot connected firmly with his shin, leaving a satisfactorily dark rent in the fabric of the pantyhose he was wearing.

“Did you guys see how I shot whatever it was out of that one kid?” Danny asked abruptly. “It’s like they’re overshadowed,” he added as he knelt down and stuck his head back through the roof to peer around beneath them.

Sam couldn’t help but laugh as she watched that, but she grew serious quickly as Danny popped back up, his face startled. “We’ve got to do something, they’re hurting people,” and the memory of blood crossed his mind as he shifted back to human and glanced at his arm. Fairly deep and still bleeding sluggishly, and Danny was on his feet and at Sam’s side before she could blink.

“Hey!” she shouted, trying to push him back ineffectively as he pushed the table cloth to the side and inspected the slash along her thigh. “Danny!”

He ignored her as he pushed the skirt up a little higher, and then he looked up at her startled as he realized that she wasn’t wearing pantyhose. “We need to bandage it, Sam,” he said thickly as he drew back from her and blinked his eyes several times. “It’s deeper than the one on my arm.”

“With what?” she asked, and then her eyes went wide at the way he was staring at her. “I’m not going to like your answer, am I?” she added and he gave her a smile that wasn’t even close to sorry before he reached up and deftly untied the table cloth.

“Tuck, what did you bring with you?” Danny asked as he sat Sam down on the ground, her left leg stretched out as he crouched and began unlacing her boot to tug it off and drop it next to them unceremoniously.

“Dude, I’m in a dress. Did you expect me to carry a purse, too?” Tucker asked.

Danny shrugged. “You’re the one who practiced in the heels, Tuck. There’s a fire escape over there; I need you to get to my house. Grab the first aid kit from my room, and I’ve got a few ectoguns stashed under the bed. Make it quick.”

“Right, sure. Make me jog to your house in heels,” Tucker muttered, his thoughts getting progressively worse as he hiked the skirt to his dress and climbed over the edge of the roof and rattled his way down the fire escape.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked Sam quietly as he looked back down at the long cut along the side of her thigh.

“It’s alright,” she said, and then hissed as he pressed tentative fingers along the edges of it, inspecting it closely.

He sighed and reached for the table cloth, finding a corner and, with a brief flare of ectoenergy, ripping it in a long strip, then another and then another. “I need to bind it. It’s pretty deep, and I don’t like the way it’s still bleeding.”

She nodded mutely, watching as he ripped another swatch of the table cloth off, and then knelt down in front of her. She almost gasped as he glanced up at her, blue meeting violet in an almost regretful way as he slid his hands up her leg and beneath her skirt, fingers slipping higher, and higher still until they were at the lacy tops of the stocking she wore. “Danny,” she breathed and felt like she was suddenly burning as hot as any of his ectoblasts, his fingers just brushing the silk of her panties, and a low moan slid past her lips as he hooked his fingers on the stocking and drew it down.

The moan turned to a whimper as it moved across the bloody wound, pieces of it being pulled from inside it where the claws had forced the silky threads, and then it was off and Danny was soothing it with gentle touches and cleaning it with a trickle of ghostly manufactured water as he made ice crystals and melted them over the wound with his ectoenergy to clean it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as the water slipped down, bright red at first but swirling pinker and paler with each new crystal until he was pressing a piece of the tablecloth to it and then winding one of the strips around her thigh with the practice of long experience. He wrapped the second and tied it off with a sturdy knot and a wry grin. “It’s a lot easier to patch someone else up instead of myself,” he said quietly.

She nodded and reached for her boot, only to be stopped by his hands on hers, and the dark fire dancing in his eyes again as he smiled at her. “Let me,” and the words were heavy between them as he slipped her boot back onto her foot, lacing it securely, his fingers firm on her calf as he finished and stared up at her.

“Sam, I…” But he couldn’t find the words to say as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, the one hand remaining on her leg, sliding up her calf and to her thigh to rest above the bandage and just beneath the edge of her skirt.

His other hand was suddenly at her cheek, holding it, fingers gentle against it before sliding back to tangle in her hair as he deepened the kiss quick as thought. His tongue was sliding along her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth on a sigh that became something much more as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, teasing her as he kissed her.

“Danny,” she whimpered as the hand on her leg started to move higher. He shifted, and Sam realized that she was barely sitting up, very nearly lying back on the rooftop with him pressed down against her, above her. “Danny,” and this time not low and wanting. This time his name was like a warning on her lips and he pulled back and blinked down at her, eyes swirling between bright blue and vivid green.

“We shouldn’t,” she said softly, and watched as he closed his eyes and pulled away from her, letting her lever herself upright as he sat back against the roof.

“Did you mean it?” he asked suddenly, eyes open again and nothing but blue as he met hers with a hesitation that she could see.

“Did I mean what?” Sam asked as she pushed the edge of the skirt back down, wincing as she touched the bandaged wound more firmly than she’d intended to.

“Careful,” Danny admonished, and she nodded. “Did you mean it? What you said about not complaining?” He stopped, but continued resolutely when he saw the blankness that still sat on her face. “Did you mean it about not complaining about not being my girlfriend?”

It was impossible not to see the hurt on his face as she sat there silently trying to figure out what to say, and when the fire escape rattled at the side of the building she could only watch nervously as whoever—whatever—clambered up it. Relief when Tucker’s head popped up over the edge, and Sam couldn’t help but snicker when she realized that he’d ditched the wig and was tooling around in his familiar red beret—and still the dress. And when he climber over the ledge she could see that he’d ditched the heels for his old hiking boots and was hauling a duffel bag that he tossed to Danny, who caught it easily and dropped it to the ground, kneeling and rifling through it.

Without warning he tossed Sam an ectogun, one of the newer rapid fire autocharged ones Maddie had finessed during their junior year. She caught it, having done just this thing too many times to miss it, and checked the gauge on the side, smiling happily when she saw that it was fully charged. There was something to be said for inventing something that would charge itself when someone, and Sam tried not to think of Jack, forgot to charge it.

Tucker got two of the smaller versions, and Danny shouldered one of the oldest ectoguns in the bag, one that Sam knew very well didn’t work more often than one shot in five. “Danny,” she started, and he smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to be using ectoblasts. I just want to camouflage them.” She arched a brow at him and he shrugged. “If my parents or Val show up they need to see me at the party I’m attending with you guys. Besides, it’ll keep everyone looking at me cross eyed until doomsday if I do this as human.”

Tucker laughed at that, and Sam could only shake her head as she climbed to her feet, testing the bandage on her leg and finding it competently done. At least it wasn’t pulling on the wound. She watched as Danny knelt back down and the stuck his head back through the roof. His eyes were worried when he pulled it back, and he shook his head.

“It’s a mess in there, but someone managed to build a barricade out of tables.” He reached out and grabbed onto Sam and Tucker’s arms. “I’ll phase us back in, use your lowest setting and try not to hit anything important in case I’m wrong.”

Tucker rolled his eyes and Sam just laughed as the tingle spread and they began sinking back into the party behind the creatures where they were trying to get past the tables that had been stacked and appeared to be being held in place by some of the students who weren’t wearing masks and had remained unchanged. Sam felt the shock rolls up through her legs when they hit the ground, and Danny pulled the three of them into a crouch as he ducked them behind a table that hadn’t made it to the barricade. Ironically it was the very table she’d hidden behind earlier, and Sam peeked a head out as she shouldered the ectogun she had.

“I’ve got the right,” Sam said surely.

“I call left,” Tucker echoed, and Sam heard the charge of his two ectoguns humming.

Danny chuckled. “I’ll go over the top, then. On three?”

Tucker nodded and Sam glanced back at Danny, finding his bright blue eyes for a moment before he slid his eyes away from hers, and she closed her eyes against the sudden pain, knowing that he’d done it because of her, because she hadn’t been able to answer him on the roof. Because she’d let them sit there in silence in those painfully long minutes before Tucker had made it back.

“Yes,” she found herself saying suddenly, eyes flying open in surprise. But she’d said it, and she couldn’t take it back. And Sam realized that she didn’t want to take it back when Danny’s eyes flew to hers, surprised and relieved and a hundred other things that she couldn’t name. She took a deep breath and licked her lips nervously. “Yes, I’m complaining.”

The only sound for a long moment was what came from beyond the table they were hidden behind, and then Danny nodded slowly. His eyes flickered back to the table, and she knew he was thinking about what was beyond it, and then he said, “One.”

“Two,” Tucker muttered, cocking one of his guns, the other resting alongside to steady his aim until he needed it; he knew better than to try and shoot left handed. He’d remedy that if he had to get Maddie to teach him herself.

There was a chuckle, and Sam said, “Three,” as the three rose as one, Sam and Tucker both moving out from the sides of the fallen table, shooting almost randomly into the mass of masked people, and most of the shots hitting targets. Legs, arms, anything that wasn’t vital. Where they hit there were garbled cries of pain, and then masks were knocked off and to the ground, melting into piles of goo.

It made Sam’s stomach roil to see the floor covered in so many dissipating specters making a mist along the ground. It was a mistake to look, she found herself being knocked to the ground by one of the mask-monsters, its paws scrabbling against hers as it tried to knock the ectogun from them and its breath hot in her face.

She screamed, trying to kick it off. These were the times she hated being so petite, she didn’t have the mass she needed to get it off, and snarling snapping teeth came closer to her face as she screamed again. Then it was gone in a brilliantly green glow and Danny was standing over her looking surprisingly dangerous in his gothic ensemble, eyes glinting down at her as he reached for her hand and pulled her up from the unmasked kid who was collapsed on the floor.

“Thanks,” she managed before he let her go, his fingers squeezing at her wrist before he slipped away, another ectoblast charged and flying. If she didn’t know better she’d have sworn that it was coming from the gun, but she sis know better and could see the faint glow that trailed from the trigger up the barrel and out into the charge.

And then further past him she could see Tucker about to be mobbed by half a dozen of the masked creatures, and she screamed. “Tucker!” Quick as thought she was shooting into the crowd around Tucker, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. And then that much harder as she heard him cry out and, despite the danger, shoot a glare at her.

“Sorry,” she called half wanting to snicker for clipping him on the arm. It had singed the blouse that went under his Dorothy jumper. There were two left, quickly picked off as Danny entered the fray and shot of two quick ectoblasts, one channeled through the gun and the other from his left hand, bursting from his outstretched palm to impact another creature and send the apparition and mask from the girl wearing it.

It surprised her to look around and find that there were barely a handful of the masked things left. The majority of them had already been taken down and unconscious bodies littered the floor amidst piles of steaming rubber and latex, and Sam looked over at Danny where he was heading after one of the few that still stood. Without looking back Sam headed for the tables, pounding on them and yelling at the top of her lungs so she could be heard over the screams that came when the cowering teenagers thought they were under attack again.

“Open up, we’ve got help!”

One of the tables slid to the side and Sam saw a very frightened Dash Baxter staring out at her. “Are they gone?” he asked, and she pointed back over her shoulder.

“Almost. Danny’s getting the last of them.” Tucker appeared at her shoulder and started helping her move the table as Dash sat back, looking sick and pale as he held his head in his hands. She heard another ectoblast from behind her but didn’t turn to look, knowing that her attention was needed with the other students.

She could see several unconscious and thought that they must have passed out from fright. “Who’s hurt?” she asked as Tucker crawled in with the first aid kit and Sam followed.

There weren’t too many actual injuries. Mostly bruises, scrapes. Of all of them she was sure that none were as bad as the slashing cuts she and Danny had gotten in the first few minutes of the melee, and set about helping Tucker patch up the handful of injuries. Star had one across her arm, shallow, but Sam knew that the tears weren’t faked or hysterical when she saw the side of the girl’s costume. The pale orange material had been split and there was a scraped area running across her side that was surrounded by already forming bruises.

Another girl that Sam didn’t know had shallow furrows over one arm, and she saw Tucker bandaging someone’s ankle. Kwan wasn’t actually wounded, there was no blood, but Sam was sure that he was concussed as he sat there with an almost vacant stare on his face.

“What happened to him?” she asked as she lifted a hand in front of his face and his eyes refused to track.

“He got hit with a table,” Star offered. “He was trying to protect me and one of those things hit him from behind.”

Sam nodded. “I think he’ll be okay, when Danny’s do—” She swerved about at the sudden cry from beyond the refuge of the tables. That was Danny, she’d know it anywhere, and she darted back out knocking over two of the tables as she went and not caring in the least about the sharp pain in her hip where she’d clipped them.

“Come on, you piece of garbage,” she heard him muttering as he frantically tried to manually charge the ectogun he had, fending off the dragon headed boy from before with a stray ectoblast that hit the ground in front of him.

She watched him duck, his body moving fluidly in the black he’d been wearing, seeing the flash of silver at his left ear as he spun behind the monster and placed a foot square in its back and sent it flying. The ectogun hummed for a moment and he fired it into monster’s shoulder, but nothing happened except for the sudden singing of the robe it wore, and Danny dodged back as it was suddenly on its feet again, wings suddenly sprouting from the kid’s shoulders.

The wings turned into massive shoulders that worked their way from the boy’s back, and then the masked dragon head lifted up, reaching out on a neck that grew longer by the second as the boy it had been on fell forward. Sam had the fleeting realization that it was Nathan, and that he wasn’t unconscious like every other person who’d been possessed, but was crawling and gibbering towards Danny, hiding behind his lean black figure as Danny faced the dragon down.

“Well, that explains why it didn’t work,” he said in an ironic tone that echoed through the room. “Um, Nathan? You should probably run now,” he added as the dragon ghost breathed in deeply and he could see the beginnings of a spark at the back of the creature’s wide-open mouth.

And when the other boy didn’t do as he suggested Danny grabbed Nathan by one arm and took off at a dead sprint, Nathan an almost dead weight that he dragged along by sheer force as fire licked at the place he’d been standing moments before and then trailing him as he raced across the room. He had a fleeting glimpse of Sam as he darted past the barricade of tables, letting go of Nathan as he did so that the still shocked boy slid between the gap in the tables, and then he was off again, his heart pounding in his ears as he tried to figure out where to go.

It was a large place by anyone’s standards, but in Danny’s mind right then it needed about a million more feet for him to run. Instead, there was a wall directly in front of him, and he was either going to run into it at fool speed and knock himself silly, or her was going to come to a stop and have the fire heated breath of a dragon searing the flesh from his bones before he became some sort of halfa corndog.

He glanced back and his eyes went wide at how close the gaping jaws were—Dora had nothing on this dragon—and the fear spent itself in a sudden burst of speed. Maybe if someone thought about it later on he’d have trouble, but Danny hoped that the potential trouble would be well worth the barest touch of his ghost powers as he made straight for the wall, planting one boot against it to push off and spin in the air, his powers bouncing him off of the wall with a control he wouldn’t have had without them, and Danny brought the malfunctioning ectogun around, swinging it into the side of the dragon’s head before he hit the ground and rolled beneath it.

The blow didn’t do much more than enrage it, though he thought he saw green-black blood splotching the floor as he tucked his arms to his side and prayed that he wouldn’t lose momentum before he was out from beneath the monster and safely away from the claws that were clutching at the floor around him, pieces of tile flying as it moved in agitation trying to find him.

Then he was out from beneath it and ducking the tail that flew past him, throwing his body back against the ground with a jarring thump and letting the momentum roll him back over to his feet. “Danny!” The cry came from behind him and Danny’s breath caught in his throat as he turned to see Sam, and a blur of silver. His hand whipped out and he caught the gun before turning and steadying his arm before letting loose a volley of shots at the dragon.

He aimed for the eyes.

He missed.

Two shots took the dragon in the red-gold scales along its jaw, a third shattered one of the arm length fangs and made it scream in fury and pain as its forked tongue licked out to catch on the jagged edge and send more black-green blood flying and sizzling whatever it hit. A fourth bounced off of the scales beneath the eye and the fifth didn’t hit at all as Danny was sent flying by the tail he’d avoided moments before.

“Danny!”

The scream had him blinking furiously as he clawed his way to his feet and climbed from beneath the chairs and tables he’d been thrown into. Blood was dripping down the side of his face, brilliantly red against the pallor of his skin, and as Danny looked around for Sam, his heart stopped dead in his chest. Literally stopped as he felt the dull glow of the rings of light that heralded his transformation and it was only sheer determination that kept him from shifting to Phantom as he saw Sam clutched in the dragon’s claws and dangling above the ground.

He could see the table cloth bandage and narrowed his suddenly green eyes at the slivers of red that danced against the orange material, and he could see red welts along her sides where the claws threatened to pierce as the dragon held her.

“Sam!” he cried as he scrambled across the rubble that was all left of the party towards the dragon, fingers clawing over broken chairs. “Let her go!” and he did the most foolish thing he could think of. He threw himself at the dragon, fingers fighting for purchase against the smooth scales that glittered beneath them, only finding finger holds when he let intangibility take the tips and sink them into the dragon’s body.

It screamed but didn’t let go of Sam, and Danny saw Tucker flying towards it, blue dress flying as he took a flying leap and nailed one of the great wings with a glittering red shoe, tearing into the wing sail and crying out as hot black blood rushed down his arms and made his skin begin to swell as it burned into it.

The dragon gave a violent heave and Danny was flung back into a wall, Tucker into the tables that were nearly protecting the other partygoers, and Sam was still firmly in the dragon’s grip, struggling against the talons where they locked around her slim waist.

Quick as thought Danny was back on his feet, silently thanking whatever reason he could take such serious damage and barely falter, even in his human form. “Let her go!” he demanded, and threw a stick of wood at the dragon, watching as it pierced through the undamaged wing and make more blood flow.

The dragon turned on him and narrowed great golden eyes at him. “Why ssshould I, little manling?” it asked in a rumbling bass as flames trickled past its scaly mouth, dancing in brilliant reds and yellows across the gleaming scales, forked tongue flicking out. “You’ve dessstroyed my army; ssshould I not take what isss dear to you?”

Danny drew back, eyes flickering to Sam before he met the dragon’s gaze again, unwavering. “You’re the one who did that to the masks?”

The dragon let out a discordant chuckle. “You think that they jussst posssesssed themssselvesss?”

Danny didn’t answer, and the dragon’s tongue flicked out again as its claws squeezed around Sam, making her scream. “Don’t hurt her!” he cried, one hand stretching out to her like he could touch her from so far away.

“What isss it worth to you, manling? Would you let me be free of thisss place and find a kingdom to claim?”

Sam’s eyes shot to Danny’s, and he knew the despair that she felt. He had so few options. Let the dragon go and risk it rampaging, ghostly though it seemed he had to wonder. Fight and Sam would get hurt, maybe die—those were strong claws she was in, and the talons were sharp. Or reveal his secret and win, using his ghost powers as an advantage unlooked for and… And most likely end up hunted. By the government at best, his own parents at worst.

Sam shook her head as she saw the decision made in his eyes, and Danny closed them, blocking out the way she seemed to plead with him. “Danny, don’t do it,” she called, and it was nearly lost in the shifting of the handful of tables that remained as the barricaded safe hole behind them. There was no barrier now, it was there for all of his classmates to see, and she was begging him not to save her.

“But how can I not?” he whispered to himself, and when he opened his eyes it was to see Sam wincing as she was squeezed again. He let it go, felt the ghost energy building up in him as the light grew at his waist. And then it was gone as he was knocked to the side again, this time by a bristling ball of green fur that shot past him to leap onto the back of the dragon and sink massive teeth into the base of its neck, making the dragon shriek and red-gold scales the size of saucers fly as Cujo ripped and tore and shredded the flesh.

“Get off of me, get off of me!” it shrieked and turned Sam loose, sending her flying across the room.

For the millionth time Danny thought his heart was going to burst his chest until he saw Tucker standing there where she could crash into him and send them both to the floor. And when she moved Danny realized that he could breathe again. She was alive, and safer now than she had been minutes ago, and Danny turned slitted green eyes on the dragon, mouth set in a grim smile as he stooped to pick up a piece of a chair, several feet long and sturdy, one end pointed from being broken, the other blunt and capped in rubber.

Cujo was still astride the dragon, and he was dragging his hind feet along its back as he chewed into its neck, more scales dislodged and his own claws catching at the base of its wings and tearing them, too, making first one and then the other droop to flutter uselessly along the floor as tendons were torn and ruined. Danny took a step forward and swung his makeshift club as hard as he could into the elbow of one of its forearms and it screamed again, collapsing to a side as the bone shattered beneath the blow.

It screamed again and he saw that Sam and Tucker had taken identical swings at its other front leg with clubs of their own, and Danny met Sam’s eyes for a second, letting his relief well in them as he looked at how dark her eyes appeared in her pale skin. Then he turned away and drove his club, now a spear of sorts, deep into the shoulder of the dragon where its neck met its body, and grimaced as hot blood washed over him. He could understand why Tucker had screamed; it was burning hot. Not like acid, but like the dragon’s body was a furnace, heating the dark liquid unto boiling before he’d spilt it.

Another scream from the dragon as Tucker whacked at its side with his club, and another as its rear claws scraped at the floor ineffectually while Cujo readjusted his grip, this time to the front of the throat, his large guard dog form sliding to the floor in front of the dragon as he dug his teeth in, squeezing and cutting off the trickle of flame that was seeping from the dragon’s mouth.

It couldn’t even scream when Sam drove her club into its side, near enough where Danny thought the heart was to make its body suddenly shudder, though its eyes were still alight with a bright golden glow as black blood, no hint of green to it anymore, flowed across the pale tile of the floor so that Danny felt like he was wading in it as he vaulted the monsters tail and snagged Tucker’s club, heading for the head.

“Find a kingdom in the afterlife,” he hissed as he raised the stake and then drove it down through the wide glowing eye.

The glow left, the body stopped rumbling, and Danny closed his eyes and breathed deeply knowing that it was over the second Cujo let go and trotted over to his side, not returning to his harmless puppy form, but letting his body shrink down until his head was only even with Danny’s waist. Absently Danny stroked a hand over the dog’s head, letting his fingers slide through the short green fur.

“Cujo, you’re getting Milkbones for the rest of your afterlife,” he muttered and gave the dog one last pat as he dropped his hindquarters to the ground and let his tail wag through the thickly congealing blood that streaked the floor around the body of the massive dragon.

Danny swallowed and rubbed a hand over his face before turning to see Tucker picking up one of the large metal hard scales, and Sam staring at the body with one hand to the bare skin of her side where a thin line of blood was trickling. Without a second thought Danny lifted his boots from where they were sticking in the dark drying blood, and went to her, one hand sliding to her unblemished side, the other behind her neck to pull her to him for a kiss.

“I’ve never been so scared,” he murmured against her hair as he just held on to her. Her arms were tight around his waist, and Danny closed his eyes.

“You’re hurt,” she said, pulling back and reaching up to touch the blood that matted the hair at the side of his head. He flinched away as she grazed the tender wound.

“I’m alright. D-don’t touch it.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “It hurts.” He glanced around and then frowned. “How are we supposed to explain this?” he asked, not bothering to hide the laugh when Tucker came limping towards him, a dragon blood covered shiny red heel in hand, and Cujo bounding towards him, still large enough to knock him over.

He wrapped an arm around Sam and glanced back at the dazed classmates who were beginning to make their way out into the ruined party. He glanced towards the doors as he heard sirens screaming their way closer and rolled his eyes. “On second thought, we don’t have to explain it. We saved the day, end of story.”

 

“I was thinking,” Tucker said from where he was perched at the edge of the Op Center, dress gone and a pair of khaki’s and a red shirt replacing it.

It was nearly midnight, a testament to how quickly the local hospital could work, and once the police had managed to sort everything out and send various students where they needed to go, Danny had managed to get his parents to convince Tucker’s parents to let him stay the night. Sam’s were out of town, again, and she hadn’t needed permission, just a quick phone call to her grandmother to let her know that she was alright and spending the night at the Fenton’s with Danny and Tucker. Her grandmother, at least, trusted them, and her.

Two out of the three had needed stitches, Sam taking almost two dozen along her thigh. More to minimize scarring, and not even her idea. The resident on duty in the emergency room had ordered it done as a matter of fact. Danny had taken fifteen to his arm and seven along the side of his head behind his ear and on up to his temple, well hidden by the mop of his black hair. Other than assorted bruises and scrapes, they were fine. Tucker was sporting burn ointment along his arms and actual bandages at his elbows and just beneath, the sensitive skin there having reacted to the scalding heat of the dragon blood by breaking out in moderate blisters.

Out of the rest of the people who attended the party, the worst was actually Kwan’s concussion, for it was a concussion, and moderate. Out of all of the complaints the trio had heard while they’d been getting patched up in the emergency room, not a single one had to do with preferential treatment or the fact that anyone was injured because they hadn’t been saved in time. The worst thing they’d heard was the fact that it took too long for pain killers to kick in, and that from Nathan who’d been admitted because the possession by the dragon spirit had given him a migraine that wouldn’t stop.

The best they’d heard was the acknowledgement that Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley had saved all of their lives.

“Did it hurt?” Sam asked from where she lounged against Danny, eyes closed as he threaded his fingers contentedly through her hair. They’d changed as well, Sam for a pair of Danny’s pajamas, something that was loose enough around the bandage on her leg, and Danny into an old pair of jeans, though he’d dug out a shirt that wasn’t his customary red and white. No, this time it was dark blue, and while not as fitted as the black one that was ruined, it was fitted enough that he’d seen the way Sam had looked at him when he’d emerged from the bathroom wearing it.

“Ha, ha,” Tucker muttered. “No, seriously. We just saved the lives of the A-List. That kind of makes us higher up on the food chain now.”

A chuckle rumbled beneath Sam’s ear, and Danny burst out laughing. “And to think, we didn’t decide to go to the party until it was almost too late.”

“So… does this make us popular now?” Sam asked, one purple eye slitting open.

“Who cares?” Tucker muttered as he pulled his PDA from his pocket. “I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” Danny echoed, wrapping his arm more tightly around Sam. The only sound for a long time after that was the random beeping of Tucker’s PDA as he concentrated on whatever game he was playing. None of them worried about Danny’s parents; they were still at the scene of the battle trying to make heads and tails of it, the masks, the massive dragon corpse that was in the middle of the wreckage. Danny figured he’d be lucky if they made it back to the house before lunchtime, at best. And Jazz had flown the coop at the beginning of the school year for Harvard.

They had the house to themselves, and they liked it just like that. But when even the beeping became sporadic and Tucker had to force himself wide awake for the third time to keep from dropping his baby over the edge, he knew it was time to call it a night. With a quiet, “g’night,” to his friends, he headed back down from the Op Center, leaving Danny and Sam alone for the first time since the ruined moment rooftop of the party.

“Hey Sam?” he murmured after a while. All he got in response was a faint murmur, and he smiled sleepily. “I’m complaining, too.”

She yawned and burrowed her head more securely into his shoulder. “Well what are you going to do about it, Danny?” she asked on another yawn.

“I dunno,” he said, eyes slipping closed. “Maybe I could ask you to be my girl?”

“Maybe you should,” she acknowledged, one of her arms finding its way around his waist as he brought his other arm up around her and relaxed further back against the support for the railing.

“Yeah, I should,” he said, and his eyes snapped open, his voice suddenly wide awake as he looked down at her. She was blinking sleepily up at him, but she was smiling, and that was enough to make him smile. “So, Sam. Will you be my girl?”

She leaned up for a moment to press a sweet kiss to his mouth before settling her head back against his chest. “All you had to do was ask,” she replied with a distinct nod against his chest.

He smiled. “So, Sam,” he said again, and she looked up, again, eyes blurry with sleep. “About those cherries you dropped off last night…”

“Perv,” she murmured affectionately and shoved her shoulder into his side. “I’m tired, Danny. Go to sleep. I’ll show you in the morning.”

There was quiet for a few moments before Danny shifted and glanced at his watch, smiling smugly when he realized it was well after midnight.

“Hey, Sam? Technically, it _is_ morning.”


End file.
